


Burn Rubber On Me

by Hambone



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Caretaking, Embarrassment, Foot Fetish, Foot Jobs, Healing, M/M, Massage, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-11 07:51:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3319766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hambone/pseuds/Hambone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cliffjumper takes care of Blurr after he was discovered in the incinerator, and in turn Blurr takes care of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burn Rubber On Me

**Author's Note:**

> Just a night quickie. Also a bit of a kinkmeme response, whacking two birds with one stone! [Here's](http://tf2007fun.livejournal.com/506446.html?thread=17469006#t17469006) one req and [here's](http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/10462.html?thread=11111902#t11111902) the second.

Cliffjumper sat down beside Blurr looking very uncomfortable. It was normal that he had some kind of grim expression on his face, but there was something particularly odd about this one. Blurr rolled on his side ever so carefully, wincing a bit as his fresh scars rubbed against the berth pad, and traced a finger down his side.

“You’re particularly moody today, if you don’t mind my saying so, and I know how much moody is normal for you.”

It was light banter. He smiled dimly up at him, hoping to get a good reaction, but his face still hurt to move much. Cliffjumper looked at him and then away again a few times, the agitated way he did whenever he was trying to be sincere but embarrassed by it. It used to be the kind of thing that sent Blurr hurtling from the room to avoid conflict but since they had moved in together, since the attack had happened and Cliffjumper had shown up in his hospital room beside himself, he had come to recognize its importance.

“Are you alright?”

He put his hand on Cliffjumper’s thigh and felt him tense a bit before the touch was reciprocated, thick fingers closing around his own.

“Yeah,” Cliffjumper said, finally meeting his optics, “I’ve just been, uhm, thinking.”

“What about?”

Blurr soothed his thumb against the notch in Cliffjumper’s palm, wanting to scoot closer but feeling his hydraulics whine in anticipation. Cliffjumper, either noticing his desire or subconsciously just wanting the same thing, turned until he had one thigh resting fully on the berth beside him, holding Blurr’s hand just a hint tighter.

“Your feet.”

Blurr perked a bit, though largely from confusion.

“What? Why? I mean I’m not, I’m not reproaching you or anything I just don’t think I really follow.”

Cliffjumper seemed to struggle with himself before doing what he always did in times of stress and blowing up. In the gentlest possible way, that is.

Turning to face Blurr fully, he crawled rather awkwardly over him to the foot of the bed, grasping Blurr’s boots and pulling them up into his lap. Laughing a little bit at how determined he looked, Blurr covered his mouth with one hand, propping himself up on his elbow for a brief moment.

“What are you doing?”

“I, I like your feet, and I know you’re sore a lot and the baths don’t help everything and I just – I just wanted to do something nice.”

He could feel the heat rolling off of his friend. Feeling a little guilty for laughing, Blurr flopped back, strength draining already, and watched him.

“That’s really nice of you, Cliffjumper, you don’t have to be embarrassed.”

Cliffjumper’s face screwed up a bit.

“’M not.”

“Okay.”

They sat in silence for a moment as Cliffjumper slowly began to run his fingers over Blurr’s legs. This was relatively normal; Blurr needed stimulation for his healing frame that he couldn’t always give himself. He was in physical therapy and had been for a while now, but it was difficult and he was without energy much of the time. Being crushed and then rebuilt, stretched out and pieced back together bit by bit, took its toll. Cliffjumper had been with him the entire time though, and he did not shy from things like helping Blurr bathe and rubbing out the aches in his joints when he was too tired to move.

It helped that his revelations during Blurr recovery had led to them admitting to a bit deeper level of emotion than simply comradery. Blurr was eternally grateful for being saved, for being given a second chance at living, and Cliffjumper had been awoken to his desires in a harsh but revealing way. They were moving slowly.

The soothing touches advanced lower until they met the cusp of Blurr’s pede, mid-calf. He was trembling a bit, Blurr realized. It wasn’t visible, but the sensors in his feet were so much more sensitive than anywhere else and he could feel the minute tremor of his fingers as he rubbed small circles into the flat top of his pede, moving down and then back up again in a sweet chord. That was nice, very nice, and Blurr allowed himself to succumb to the quiet of it and lay is head back into the mound of pillows he’d acquired, shuttering his optics.

Things proceeded that way for a while, with Cliffjumper gently stroking down the back of his foot, curving carefully over the bio lighting on his heel, then moving back upwards again. He circled round to the front to pet the rubber of Blurr’s wheels, which made him jump and smile a bit as it tickled, smoothing his thumb into the grooves of his tread and the slick cut ring underneath. He rotated them slowly, working every inch of it until Blurr felt himself limp with pleasure, enjoying the attention much more than he’d thought he would. He had never had another bot attend to his feet outside the medical ward before, hadn’t considered how truly blissful it could be to be given such a good, deep rub. This was even better than the work Cliffjumper did on his arms, neck, or back.

He lifted his helm again to tell him so and noticed, finally, the way Cliffjumper was looking at him. More specifically, looking at his pedes. His optics were bright and yet not fully lucid, as if trapped in fantasy, and his mouth was ever so slightly open. It was a look Blurr recognized well, though never in this exact scenario, and for a moment he didn’t know what to say.

It only took that moment for Cliffjumper to notice though.

“Uh, I, I wasn’t doing anything!”

It was a foolishly immature answer and proved to Blurr once again just how slowly the normal Cybertronian mind reacted. He almost laughed again, but there was an underlying surprise in him that kept the emotion down. Instead he found himself looking away, biting his lower lip. Cliffjumper’s hands had frozen in their work but were still tight on his heel, just barely tucking a thumb under the notch there.

“I don’t mind,” he said, quietly, “If that’s what you like, I mean, I-I don’t mind it at all.”

Just saying that made him embarrassed and he felt Cliffjumper tense as well. However one of his thumbs did resume its soft turning.

“I don’t know what you're talking about,” said Cliffjumper, as if meaning to be sour but not managing it. Blurr heated even more, suddenly realizing that he meant what he had said and then some. He _liked_ Cliffjumper, really did, and he couldn’t say he had never thought about being closer to him, although he’d assumed that would happen when he was in better condition. But this… this was something he could give, and if Cliffjumper wanted this, then he could perform, whatever that entailed. Something inside his lower belly stirred, and he felt himself twitch a bit in Cliffjumper’s hold.

“I mean,” he swallowed thickly, “you can keep touching me. You can keep touching my feet and, and whatever else you want, if that’s what you really would like, I mean.”

He stared at his own hands, optics wide as he seemed to hear himself speaking from a mile away. His receptors rang with mortification.

Cliffjumper stared at him.

“Really?”

He felt his throat close, but nodded furiously. Cliffjumper gripped him so tightly the scars on his feet stung and he chirped a bit in surprise.

“Sorry!” he massaged the area then, the stagnant second broken, hunching over to better see the scars, caring, intimate. Blurr watched him, biting his knuckle as hard as he could stand to.

“I’m not, uh, not going to do anything too weird,” muttered Cliffjumper, but even his awkwardness could not cover his elation, “I just really, really like your stabilizing servos.”

He shifted his grip so he was holding a wheel in each hand, fingers pulling in a small wave motion against the inner ring.

“They’re just really different, I guess. I dunno. Really nice.”

He pet up and down along them, and this time Blurr really watched him, watched the intentness in his gaze. It had felt nice before, but now, knowing what it was doing to Cliffjumper, knowing what his touch was really saying, Blurr suddenly found the entire act somewhat erotic. His toe pieces twitched and one of Cliffjumper’s hands skittered up to touch behind the pyramid stabilizer, fingers swirling around the thin metal connecting it to his tire.

Blurr moaned.

It was an accident, but they both heard it and immediately changed for it, Blurr in shock and Cliffjumper in higher interest. He pressed against him harder, rubbing with the same care and gentleness but a deeper intensity.

“I-I’ve never really had anyone do this for me,” he stuttered, trying to justify what didn’t need it. Cliffjumper fought with indecision a klik before leaning in and pressing his lips to Blurr’s left foot, near the calf, along a long silvery scar.

“That’s okay,” he said gruffly, an edge of arousal tinting his voice; “I’ve never gotten to do it before.”

Blurr shivered as he continued kissing along the fault line, tongue slipping out to lap at the wider cracks and cuts. It was all filled with protoform and solid weld, but it was sensitive and Blurr found himself biting back more squeaks and jitters as the warm pressure sent little zings up his legs. He was in no shape to really interface, equipment barely repaired, but the protocol for it was still alive and active in his processor, and he felt his valve warm and wet.

It surprised them both to hear the click of an interface panel sliding back, even more so because it wasn’t Blurr’s.

Cliffjumper jumped, but didn’t stop, and Blurr began to panic.

“I-I-I’m not really ready for that yet!”

It didn’t keep Blurr from staring down between his legs at Cliffjumper’s stout spike, short and thick between his thighs. Clearly mortified, Cliffjumper stopped his kissing, pulling away a bit.

“I, uhm, I didn’t mean for that to happen, I just got excited.”

His voice was almost a growl now, solid and rough. Blurr could practically feel it lick along his plating, shivering a bit.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

He shifted a bit and his spike bobbed alluringly. Blurr felt his mouth flood with solvents despite himself.

“I can still help you with that if you’d like.”

Cliffjumper’s helm shot up and Blurr hid behind his hands.

“I mean I know I can’t really do much like this but I’m really kind of flattered you’re still arou-wanting to be with me even when I’m like this _and I didn’t really think it would go this far but I want to help you it would be kind of rude if I didn’t I think I don’t know I could use my hands or-or-or-!”_

“Could you,” Cliffjumper licked his lips, “could you use your feet?”

Blurr peered up over his fingers.

“O-okay.”

Cliffjumper shifted back a bit, rising up on his knees, and Blurr baulked.

“Okay but I-I-I don’t really know how.”

Taking hold of his feet again, Cliffjumper lifted them a bit, pushing them closer together until Blurr’s knees were bent towards his chest. It wasn’t really uncomfortable, reminiscent of a stretch Blurr did in his therapy. Sliding his palms down to Blurr’s toes, Cliffjumper exhaled a hot gush of steam.

“I’ll show you.”

Tentatively he pressed the flat pads of Blurr’s feet to his spike. It was quite warm and firm beneath his toes and Blurr almost jumped away from it, surprised at how intense the sensation was against the brilliant sensory array spread through his pedes. It felt very different from the way a spike did in his hands, so much more alive with data. He could feel the minute pulse of spark energy between them, the push of energon through his piping, the soft flutter of mechanisms behind the hard metal twitching as he carefully allowed himself to put pressure down. Cliffjumper’s optics fluttered and he groaned deeply.

“Th-that’s really good, just do it like that,” he muttered, “not too hard.”

His hands moved away to play with the tread on Blurr’s wheels again and he was left to his own devices. Still peeking between his fingers, Blurr watched himself carefully manipulate his toes around the width of Cliffjumper’s fat spike, watching it jump a little in reaction, prefluid gathering at the tip. Feeling giddy, he slowly rubbed a small tug up and down, growing bolder as Cliffjumper shut his optics offline and moaned again. This was new, and strange, and really, really embarrassing but he found himself heavily invested, trembling a bit as his valve twinged longingly.

He stroked his feet up and down again, edging one around to swipe at the silvery prefluid. He pulled back a little at the heat and a thin strand stuck to him, connecting foot to spike. Cliffjumper hissed.

“That’s s-so fragging hot.”

Blurr stuttered, laughing nervously, rubbing his trembling feet down again and using he slickness to assist. Cliffjumper was no longer rubbing his feet, merely holding them, fingers shaking as he kept steady. Biting his palms, Blurr curved his toes, twisting back up and rubbing warm circles around the head.

Cliffjumper overloaded, three thick spurts of transfluid jetting out over Blurr’s feet and stomach with surprising range for such a short spike. Blurr gasped, almost panting from the small exertion and able to do nothing about it as he was held steady. It was warm and viscous against his sensitive feet, and after Cliffjumper was done he was still held fast, almost whining at the light tickle it caused. Cliffjumper slumped back onto his aft, expression one of pure bliss.

“Primus fragging slag yards, that was…” he looked at his own spunk splattered along Blurr’s feet, still held shivering by his chest. Only one of Blurr’s optics was visible, glimmering shyly between his fingers. His spike twitched again, another small glob of transfluid bubbling down the tip even as it depressurized.

“That was really, really good.”

“I’m glad.”

It was hardly a whisper. Cliffjumper pulled back and helped Blurr stretch his legs back down, stiff from the cramped position, and started wiping his feet off with the same care he had laved on them earlier.

“Uhm,” he gave Blurr a small, relaxed smile, “thanks. For all of that.”

Blurr couldn’t help but return the look, burning with the excitement of what they had done.

“I-it’s really the least I could do.”

“But you didn’t have to,” said Cliffjumper, leaning in to press another chaste kiss to his scarred knee, “and that’s why it matters.”


End file.
